Coincidences Matter
by yuni30
Summary: What happens when two brother's come together through shere incident? Luck favors to prepare...
1. Prologue

**Hello all! Yuni here! Listen, this is the prologue to give you the preview of the main character's ideals and what happened in the story. It kind of starts near the end like in Emperor's New Groove, but it's explained in the next chapters. **

**S.s.S**

~Prologue~

I walked into the Benbow Inn. My brother had already sneaked in and got a room, leaving me to handle my own with the hand full of coins he had given me. He made sure our "treasure" was safe and sound before I came in. He signaled me with his room light, flashing it a couple of times.

I sat at a table, yawning and shaking a little from the adventure. Just to help my brother reclaim freedom I had to fend off space pirates, save a maiden who seemed to pull her own well, and keep my brother from exposing himself too much. Okay, the last part was mostly me being stubborn and trying to make myself look smart. Truth of the matter, it was I who would blow a man's cover if I did something incredibly dumb.

A kind looking woman approached me. She asked of what I wanted to drink and I pleaded 'water'. After only being to drink that bloody and vile stuff called rum all the time, I needed it. It was the only form of liquid on the ship besides the purps! I swore on my life, that before I space again I'll carry a dozen barrels of the heavenly fluid we all call water. It was pure torture.

The woman carried out a pitcher of water and a glass filled to the brim. I thanked her and began to gorge on it. If I wasn't exaggerating before, I am now: I was in pure paradise to taste the sweet life giving liquid.

A man wearing a beige shirt and rather shaggy hair do sat down at the table. I eyed him as I took another sip of the ice water in my cup, only to chew on some, due to the cubes that were poured into my mouth. He had his hands crossed in front of his face and was eying me curiously. When I set my drink down, I asked, "Do you need something, sir?" He smirked and replied, "Well, I was just coming down to check on my mom, then I spotted you." I began to eye him quizzically. He chuckled and shook his head, saying, "You look off ally familiar. Kind of like an old spacer I know. The clothing sure looks like his old threads." I blinked and leaned forward.

He was referring to my use to be oversized black jacket I took in and the cream shirt that my brother had given me. The pants of course were handed to me by another ally of ours. The fact that I could sew sure got my brother in laughing fit. No one in his family really sewed well. They considered it a woman's thing to sew, but me being partially raised in an orphanage; I kind of took up the liberty of learning from my peers. "Well, I'm not sure as to who you're referring to, sir, but who's to say it is the same old sailor? I mean, is this not spacing attire," I asked while motioning to my outfit of choice.

He let out a small chuckle again and grinned. "Point made. What's your name anyway," he prodded. I learned from my brother that if I was confronted of the name, I should spare no display of emotion, so I did just that. _Let me see... Jack Nickals would work! _I thought to myself. "Jack Ansel Nickals. What of you? I'm sure I've seen you in the news, or maybe the paper," I prodded back. He smirked and said as I took another sip of water. "The name's Jim...," He began.

I raised an eyebrow in mid sip. "Jim Hawkins," he finished. I began to choke on ice, and grabbed a napkin from the holder in the center of the table to catch it. _What the devil...? _I thought as I looked at him with a now shocked look. "'James Pleaides Hawkins'? _The_ 'James Pleaides Hawkins'," I asked in surprise. He nodded and said, "The one and only!" I continued to gape, but soon closed my mouth for as my brother said, "If ye continue to stand there like tha', I'll use ye ta decorate the bow of the ship!" I snickered, "Man, now I know I've heard of you! My brother won't shut up about you!" Jim blinked.

He looked at me quizzically once more and asked, "Oh really?" I nodded. "My brother is a big time story teller. He's told various tales of pirates and spacing. His favorite is the one where a cabin boy saved a crew and discovered 'The Loot of a Thousand Worlds'. He says he accumulated the story by listening in on rumors and tales of other stories. Though there is one particular thing he isn't good at," I explained.

Jim leaned in, now curious. I leaned in as well to whisper, "He hates games, since the old guy is a sore loser." At this Jim rubbed his chin. He pondered to himself, "Why does that ring a bell?" I froze instantly while his focus remained on the floor. Had I given to much information away? I'd give anything to read minds, for if he knew my brother, to the gallows of us both.

Jim looked up and I hid my fear like simple secret. "Don't worry 'Jack Nickals'," he said. I knew he figured it out when he emphasized my phony name. He then winked at me out of nowhere. "Your secrets safe with me." My mouth hung open for the second time during our meeting. "I'm good friends with your brother. I wouldn't dare turn him or you in." He got up and walked away at that moment.

I sat there, grinning at the fact that my brother had someone he could trust well in the Inn. But how well could we trust him? You see, my story is not as simple as you think. And to make things clear, I'll have to tell you from the beginning.

**S.s.S**

**You know the deal... Review! But ummm... no harsh criticism. Please? This is what... my third serious fic? Wow... I'm a parody freak! O_O**


	2. Brothers

**Yello... Read and all that other stuff. XD Oh and here we start off with the actual story! I own nothing... Please be nice when it comes to reviews. **

**S.s.S**

It all started out on planet Triano. I lived alone, fended for myself, ate only when I needed and ate only a small enough amount to preserve what I had. On occasion I would find a fair paying job. Y'know... I swore sometimes it was just the way I lived that made me the way I was. But the way I saw it, I could leave anytime to any place and get out of this dump since it had a convenient space port.

Me, myself, and I. On occasion, I'd get into a knife fight, but me being the keen and tough guy I am, I usually stale mated or won. Course, that was beside the point. Run, run, run, was what was on my mind. Keep the baker on his toes by making new moves to evade him. Keep my 'groceries' safe. By groceries, I meant a bun! Yeah, I don't usually steal much.

Krin Ansel is my name. My occupation? Try homeless street rat and occasional drug dealer to get me some money. Yeah, bad occupation. My species in particular is Ursid, so I'm quite thin for such a classification, and yet I sport the genetic traits. My age is thirty, or at least I think. I suppose I don't have much family. I'm an orphan since they say my parents didn't want me. I don't even know them. Oh and my favorite pass times at the given chance is target practice, cooking, sewing up my clothes, and oh... my current favorite, stealing food. The only possession that's of value: An old gold pocket watch with a silver "S" imprinted on it.

I continued to run. I spotted a makeshift board skateboard and hopped on. I propelled myself through the streets with ease. Another pass time I had failed to mention was skate boarding. It was fun and simple. Just balance, thrust, and steer. How hard was that? "Get back here, boy," the burly human of a baker called as he ran after me.

As I rode I pulled the old "lose the pursuer in a busy space port" routine, as I called it. As soon as I pulled through the large crowd and ended at the end of a port, I looked back to see my plan had worked. I grinned and looked at my dinner. Not much, but it would do. It was then I realized where I was. I looked to see a large ship called the High Lander. Then I remembered how annoying that this place could be with all the happy people that lived in their houses with a family, while we poor homeless people spend cold nights outside. I sighed and looked to the ship.

No one would even notice I was gone. I boarded the ship and sneaked into the hold. I could do without the food for quite a while. I hid down in the hold behind some crates and began to break up my piece of bread and putting it in my small knapsack made our of an old burlap bag. That would be my meal for the next few days. When I got close to starvation, I'd go to where ever I could to get food. I took out my knife I had put together from several discarded razor blades, twine, and an old wooden comb. I could very well steal from this ship during the voyage.

Suddenly, out of keen hearing, there was a distant "thump, clunk" from the deck above. I crouched low. _This'll be easy. My enemy is disabled. _I smirked and watched as a person of my own species, only larger in weight and height, walked down, his right mechanical arm, leg, and head piece whirring and whining. "Who's down here? Coulda sworn I saw someone dat weren't part of the original crew sneak down 'ere," he boomed.

I jumped out, knife in hand. Something was off about his look. It wasn't scared; in fact a smirk seemed to be tugging at his lips. I blinked and prowled closer, trying to intimidate the man. "I'd watch it, old sailor. I'm dangerous with a knife," I warned. He let a grin break out on his face and smacked my right hand- the one holding the knife- and sent my weapon flying toward a crate. He then swung his mechanical leg right through mine, causing me to trip and fall.

To my own humiliation, he began to laugh. "Looks like some'n needs a good course in fightin'," he commented. He picked me up off the floor by the shirt collar. He grabbed my wrist then froze, seeing the burlap sack I had conveniently left on the crate near my hiding place. He let go of my hand. I could tell that this man wasn't all that cripple. He seemed as able as any, due to the fact that he had downed me with only two movements. I then noticed the clothing. 'Pirate' was what they gave off. _I shouldn't trust him._

I realized my watch was in the sack and took a wary glance at the pirate, realizing it was too late. _Kiss it goodbye?_ I thought. I bit my tongue. There was no way I was going to part with the only lead on who my family really was. I ran forward as he withdrew the watch from the knapsack He eyed it wondrously and turned to me with a scowl. I saw my chance and threw a fist at his stomach. I had hit home but he didn't seem to be all that affected. I punched a couple of more times. His scowl just worsened.

He flung his mechanical arm out and threw me to the wall like a rag doll. Soon I found he had pinned me using my shirt collar with his real hand, placing my watch in his mechanical hand. "Why're you here? Why'd ya come after me, eh," he roared. I blinked and began to stammer, "C-come after y-y-" He snapped in between my sentence, "Ye know! Now who sent ye! Surely ye gotta be some spy from deh military, or maybe a scout from me ol' family!" I hesitated. He mistook my hesitance for defiance and demanded, "Talk! Tell me whatcha wan' wit' me?"

I finally got the nerve to speak. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about. If your referring as to why I happen to have that watch," I said in a serious tone, motioning to the device in his right hand. Somehow the "silver-tongue" trait was passed on from whoever my relatives are. I continued, "It just happens to be my only lead to my family. I don't really know who they are. The people at the orphanage always called me Krin Ansel." He loosened the grip and finally let go.

"Well, Krin," he began, still holding my watch. He pocketed it and began to walk upstairs. "Yer gonna have ta leave. T'aint to keen on suspect stowaways," he said slyly. I sneered at his back as he finally stepped out of view. I then looked to the side and scoffed. "Yeah... right..." There was no way I was going to pass this chance up. Besides, he stole my watch. I went to where my makeshift knife had been lodged and yanked it out, leaving one of the three blades stuck in the crate. _Goody... Just nice. _I thought as I examined my mutilated knife.

I went back to my hiding spot and examined my satchel. Everything but my watch was there. Now I needed to last the trip.

* * *

><p>A week and a half later...<p>

My stomach growled furiously as I tried to get some sleep. I was near starving point. Finally I gave up and remembered my poor knife. It still had two blades. Maybe I could hack my way into a crate. Maybe some biscuits would be waiting. That's part of what they had, right? I meandered to a crate marked "FOOD" and began to chip away at the wood. To my displeasure another blade tore off the knife. I ignored it with a groan and continued to chop. Sad to say I was now weaponless and hungry at the end of my attempt. With my choices in the hold exhausted, I sneaked to the galley, evading the watchman's wary eye.

As I crept down into the mess and head towards the purp barrel I heard a familiar clunking sound. It was the Ursid cyborg again. I grabbed a few purps and rushed under a nearby table and began to eat. The man walked down into the mess. With each step he took made me cringe in fear. He was talking into something.

"Well, I located what I'm after. She's somewhere on dis ship. Blast it though, she's probably held up somewhere where I can't reach 'er. I'm alone in dis situation, really. If they figured out me motives...," he paused as he stopped beside my table. I prayed that he didn't see, hear, or smell me. I bit my tongue. Then, to my relief, he continued, "I'm a dead man without help. I need the crew to get use to me, but its best I get her off before we reach the next point of the voyage. That's when they ship 'er off. Well, until tomorrow night!" There was a click and he pocketed the device. He was leaning against the purp barrel.

I was almost finished with my third purp. As I ate the last of it, I began to slither- due to my thin form- out from under the table. I began to slowly rise, stopping at more of a crouch than anything else. I heard the pirate say, "Man, Morph would be more'n a sight ta see about now. I sure could use the comp'ny." I blinked. _Who is- more importantly, _what _is Morph? _I thought as I began to step away from the table so I could slither under the other. Wrong move, since the boards underneath me creaked. My adversary looked up sharply. I found he was even glaring at me since I could almost feel the laser of his mechanical eye.

"Oh... crap...," I thought out loud as I stood up straight. Yep, and to put it more correctly, he was _scowling _at me with intense anger. I made a break for it. As I ran to the stairs, he grabbed my left shoulder with some sort of vice like device that apparently could interchange with his hand. I began to struggle against it. Suddenly, in the midst of my fight for freedom, a searing pain shot through my neck and shoulder blade. "Aaaagh," I cried out in agony, grabbing the damaged area around my neck. I was pulled back towards the man.

He must have seen the pain spread on my face, for he let go and gave me a sympathetic look before changing to fury and anger. "I t'ought I told ye to _leave_," he barked. I scowled up at him and said, "Give me my watch back, and I will!" His head drew back on his neck with a defiant look. "Dat watch is a family heirloom! So who says I'm gonna let a little whelp like you 'ave it!" I glared and ground my teeth. "Even if it was, it never belonged to you! That's the only thing of my family I have left, and you dare steal it," I growled with the utmost ferocity. It was this rage that kept people away.

He continued to glower at me, then snapping- though shockingly- in the same tone and ferocity, "Yer family? An' who says yer family weren't no good thieves that stole from mine, eh?" I growled back, "Don't you pin the blame on me! I never knew my family! Besides, you're one to talk since you stole something of mine that I've owned for around thirty years!" He locked eyes with mine in an intense stare. After a moment he sighed and seemed to relax. "Jus' what be yer name, lad," he queried. I looked down and mumbled, "Krin Ansel, as I told you before."

He grabbed a purp from the barrel and rubbed his head with it, sighing again. "So...," he began. "Yer the lil' pup tha' me family gave off ta the orphanage." I blinked. What was he getting at? He definitely knew something about my family, that's for certain. "Huh," I asked simply. He replied, finally having a bite of the purp in his hand, "Me parents had another kid, ten years after I ran off. Named him 'Krin Ansel Silver', or somet'in like that. Somethin' in the paper said tha' me father didn' want another screw up like me, so he gave his son away along wit' his old gold watch. I vowed if I ever found the watch I'd keep it t'ill I pawned it off ta someone fer some money outta hatred."

I cocked my head and asked wonderingly, "What do you mean? You hate your- er... our father? What for?" _And who or what is this "her"? _I thought to myself. He took a glance at me. "Let's 'ave a look at dat shoulder o' yers, Krin," he said, changing the subject. I glared and demanded as I took my shoulder out of his reach as he began for it, "What do you hate our dad for, brother?" He growled as he forcefully grabbed my left shoulder, causing me to yelp, "Drop it. It don' concern ye at all!" I huffed and tore my shoulder out of his grasp. I didn't know what my brother was planning. Heck, I didn't even know if he was telling the truth!

I cringed and glared at him. "How do I know you're telling the truth, eh? Where's your proof," I questioned as he made a dash for me, failing. He paused and took out a few news paper clippings from his jacket pocket and placed them on a table. I glanced up warily at him as I slowly reached for the clippings with my right hand. I picked them up and read the headline, "Head of Metal Co. Gives Away What Might Be The Last Chance of His Family Run Corporation." I continued to read on, "Mitch Silver claims to give away his second son due to an earlier mishap. His eldest, John Silver, had run away from home at the ripe age of ten. When we questioned the wealthy head of the company, he stated, 'I'm afraid he'll turn out to be like his brother. A no good delinquent.'" I paused at that.

I looked up to the cyborg. He was now glowering more at the paper than me. He motioned to the clippings and said, "Read on, Krin." I did so. "Though his wife, Melissa Silver, claims to want to keep the child, her husband says otherwise. Thus, his youngest son, oddly named Krin Ansel Silver, was shipped off to an orphanage with his mother as one final tribute from the forsaken woman to her son. She returned and has been in depression for days on end," I finished sadly. I took a glance at who I guessed was supposed to be my older brother. He was stone faced. "Tha's why hate 'im. He didn' care 'bout his family one bit. He jus' wanted his darn business ta survive," he said bitterly.

I looked down. "I'm sorry, John," I apologized. He smirked. "T'ain't no problem, Krin. What's past is past. Best be movin' forward anyway," he said with a lighter mood. He placed my watch on the table and said, "Good ta see me brother's alive an' well anyhow. Now let's see tha' dislodged shoulder o' yours!"


	3. Torture and Pity

**Look... another chapter... Read, Review... I own nothing... That stuff. Be nice reviewing.**

**S.s.S**

My shoulder was fixed up, due to my brother's help. I didn't like the pity that came with it though. "Listen, I'm at least thirty, so I don't need pity, John," I snapped as he forced me to sit at a bench not long after he had fixed up my shoulder. He patted my right shoulder with his mechanical hand. "Ye need a better meal than a few purps, Krin," he said as he seemed to warm up something on the stove. He placed a bowl of a thick brown substance in front of me and placed a spoon next to it. I picked up the spoon and poked it.

I glared at him. "I'm not hungry, John. I can pull my own," I said defiantly. Suddenly as if to prove me wrong, my stomach growled. I saw him raise an eyebrow. He stated, "Listen, as long as I'm yer brother, yer gonna be looked after, got tha'? Older brothers are supposed to keep the younger ones outta trouble..." He glanced at me. I was still poking the stew. "Even if it means getting' a sick pup ta eat his dinner," he said, earning a glare from me.

I got up to leave, but found John blocking my path. I tried going around the table, but found he had blocked that path, too. I sat back down. "Persistent, are we, John," I questioned as I took up a spoonful of the stuff. Surprisingly, it was pretty good. I wolfed it down, but showed no expression of delight. I wanted to prove I wasn't a measly little child that had to be cared for. I got up and wiped my mouth with my ragged shirt sleeve and walked to the entrance of the mess. I looked back and stared at my brother. "I guess I'll leave-," I began, and then I remembered that if I even tried to leave the ship, I was dead.

I shrugged and lied on the bench of a table. Soon I drifted off to sleep after hearing my brother say, "Krin, rest well" as he walked back on the deck.

I woke up. It was broad day and I was in a hammock. Man, I hate pity. My brother probably put me there. I walked up on the ship's deck. I should have known... It was a pirate ship I was on. The crew were all dressed like them and I figured they had a phony flag. I saw a man that looked to be some sort of cat -human hybrid with fish like characteristics. He seemed to be ordering everyone about, so he must have been the captain. His sea green eyes locked on to me suddenly. He called out in a hoarse voice, "Boy! You there! I need to speak with you for a second!" I nodded and walked to where he was at, the bridge of the ship. "Yes, sir," I asked in a polite manner.

He glared down at me with his piercing eyes. "What experience do you have aboard a ship," he asked. I blinked. "Well... I never really have been on a ship before," I admitted. He smirked and said, "Well, I've finally found a suitable cabin boy." I shot an insulted look. "Why cabin boy-" He glowered at me and boomed, "Don't back talk your captain, boy! Now get to the galley and see what job the cook has to offer!" I nodded and walked away grumbling to the galley.

I wondered who the cook was. Maybe it was some weird Likarian bug creature, although I didn't see any that fit the description. I sighed as I hopped down the galley steps. I looked around. There was no one in the galley but my brother eating a purp. "Uh... John, have you seen the cook?" He chuckled slyly and stood. "Yer looking' at him," he stated motioning to the apron he now sported. I also noticed his jacket and hat were gone. He only wore an aged light colored shirt, some- although I never really looked into fashion- tacky looking striped pants and a bandanna a top his head.

I let out a snicker. "You're the cook? Isn't that-" I let out a few chuckles in the middle of my sentence. "Isn't that a woman's thing?" He glared down at me, looking insulted. "To tell the truth, the men who go it alone know more t'an wha' _advanced _society states. Especially cookin'!" I scrunched my face up and replied in mockery, "'Specialy cooking! 'Specialy cooking!" I could tell he was past annoyed. He was biting his bottom lip and his cyborg eye was glowing red. I winced under his glare and asked, "What?" He continued to glower. "Cookin' is the thing tha' helps the crew survive a voyage, an' ye didn' hear it from me," he stated seriously as he turned around and walked to the actual kitchen part of the galley.

I blinked, trying to get what John had said. I shook my head and walked to the purp barrel, leaning against it. "Before you start tossing me chores left and right like every other cabin boy that's ever sailed this galaxy, can I ask a question," I said curiously. John raised an eyebrow, pausing from dicing something up. I approached him smirking. "Just what in the world are you planning? I heard you talk about something on this," I said as I took out the recorder he had been speaking into the night before.

His face displayed shock then he smirked at me. "Ye may be poor at fightin' but ye ain't a dense man, Krin," he said with a chuckle. "Ye see... I'm a wanted man, an' ta redeem me o' me crimes I'm plannin' on saving the daughter of Montressor's Governor. If I do it right, I'm sure ta get pardoned of what my sentence may be." He turned back around and continued to chop up the unknown substance. I replied with a curious, "Oh, and what sentence would that be?" I saw him tense up heard him sigh. "Death. They treat us pirates like the rats t'ey suppose we are. Vermin, disease ridden creatures dat are a threat ta society," he said bitterly.

_So... my brother's fighting for his life. Well... _"I'll help you." His large chopping knife attachment on his right arm froze in mid slice. He interchanged it with his hand and turned to look at me with bewilderment. "You wha'," he said in an even more confused tone than what he displayed. I smiled and said, "We're brothers, right? If the older is suppose to look after the younger one, then so be it the younger one should do the same in his brother's time of need, right?" He eyed me quizzically. "Ye sure yer me brother, Krin," he asked with a chuckle. He turned around to continue chopping. "Yer too kind. I'll consider it," he admitted.

"So, Mr. Slave Driver, what's my first duty," I questioned with a bit of sarcasm. He placed the diced item- or what looked to be a vegetable- in a bowl and started to mash it with some sort of unknown device, a masher I suppose. "Uh... swab the deck, Krin, den report back ta me." I nodded then I remembered I didn't exactly know where the mop and bucket was, let alone the water supply. "Um... I need the supplies," I admitted shyly. "Storage closet to the left of the main galley in the mess. Git goin' an' good luck wit' surviving the crew," he said, with evident humor in his voice.

I scoffed as I headed to the storage closet. The mop and the bucket sat there, waiting to be used. _Joyous... The dirt on the deck is probably two feet thick. _I picked up the dusty bucket and turned the nozzle on the back wall of closet and filled it. I grabbed a jug of soap and added a dash of it to the water. I hauled myself up to the deck and began to mop it clean. _Cabin boy... seems like a waste of talent if you ask me. _I continued to mop up the dirt from the ground. I perked my ears up to listen for some sort of clue. Lucky me, since I'm a hybrid.

"Cap'n won't let us near...," one man of the crew said. I didn't look to see who it was. If this was the kind of operation that my brother had planned, then I better be smart about it. "...Fine pretty lil' lady...," I heard from a higher pitched creature. "Maybe the cap'n wants her all to 'imself...," said another in a slightly suspicious tone. I focused my line of hearing somewhere else as I mopped somewhere else. I felt slightly disgusted at their comments. It made my stomach turn. Either that, or I was space sick.

"Cap'n's suspicious of the cabin boy... Yeah, the one mopping...," I heard another say. I pretended to not hear it. I'd be suspicious too if someone found me stowing away on my ship. "Man's nearly thirty, yet he acts so childish...," said a slightly humorous voice. I felt a scowl spread on my face. _Well little inside meetings ain't so grown up yourself... _I thought. I knew better than to say such comments out loud. I've gotten in fights that way. Then I heard my brother chuckle among the same group. I mopped and moved to the bridge, still focusing on that group.

"The lad may 'ave a few youthful characteristics but t'ere's some use in 'im. He's a keen boy an' picks up on things fast," my brother said in a sarcastic tone, evening it to a more meaningful one at "picks up on things fast". I scowled. "He's jus' some stowaway. He ain' worth much. I'm pretty sure we'll git rid o' him at the next stop," he said with too much pleasure. There was a pang in my heart. Something that infuriated me. If he was my brother, then how could he say such a thing, eh?

I quickly mopped the rest of the deck. It was midday when I reported to the galley. John was heating something on the stove. I leaned against the purp barrel. I reached in and grabbed a purp as I began to bring it close to my mouth, it was swiped from my hand. I blinked and glanced at my brother who was now munching on the purp _I _was intending to eat. "Ye need more'n a purp fer yer lunch, Krin," he stated wisely. I remembered his comments.

"Quit with the nice act, John. I heard what you said on deck," I confessed. He raised an eyebrow and placed a bowl on the table. "Deh crew don' know we're brothers. I'm tryin' ta keep it tha' way so they'll have no bargain key." I knew what a bargain key was. Basically if someone held a bargain key they could get information out by torturing said creature. I heard about it from reading in a book store before they kicked me out. "But what information would you hold? I mean... why would they wanna torture you," I wondered aloud.

He chuckled and asked, "Krin, ever heard of the Loot of a Thousand Worlds and how it was discovered?" I didn't know what that was or where. "Um... No," I admitted. He smirked at me as he leaned on the wall across from me. "Tha's why. Some don' believe the tale, nor heard it. If they're obsessed with what I think they could be, they could try an' get some information. I'm not sure if they are." He shrugged and pushed me to the table with the stew on it. I sat down and ate it quickly, nearly coughing.

"Boy, slow down. I know ye like deh stew but, take yer time," John said with concern. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve as I finished coughing. I took his advice. I finished eating and ran my hands through my dark brown hair. "What _is _that stuff, might I ask?" I heard John chuckle. "Ye really mus' learn abou' the Silver family's history, Krin. T'at dere is the family recipe of Bonzabeast Stew." I raised an eyebrow. "What's in it," I interrogated warily. I got up and leaned against the counter of the kitchen. I saw him smirk from his place against the wall of the galley. "I'll tell ye later, Krin. First off, watcha learned up on deck?" I told him all else I heard, still a bit curious as to what was in the stew.


End file.
